I’ve gushed about Foxes, aka 22yo London singer Louisa Rose Allen, before here, and now it’s time to gush about her all over again. Why? Because her debut single is out on 16 January via Neon Gold. It’s the slow-burning atmospherica of Youth (available for free at the bottom of this blog), with the cosier, but just-as-elegant track Home as it’s B-side.

Here’s my weekly collection of five songs that I’m currently loving - a one-off postponement of SOIWT’s avid London focus:

Moonlight Bride – Young GunsI tipped Moonlight Bride for greatness at the start of the year, and while little has happened to that effect I stand by my assertion that they’re brilliant. This is melodramatic, aching pop-rock at its most cabriolet: singalong summery songs that must be played at top volume for full uplifting benefit. The thrilling Young Guns remains my favourite: it burns and yearns with a nostalgic love based on times when life was easy. A mix of soaring peaks, hurt-speckled vocals, sudden quietude and careering guitars, it’s just a little irresistible in these balmy times. Whoa-ho-ho along – you know you want to.

NB: the below version isn’t brilliant – best to get the MP3.

Beach Fossils – Youth
A forbidding duo of male voices sings. A country-esque guitar is plucked with same simple, soulful chord. The male voices return. The guitar is plucked a little more, a little faster. And so it goes on this, track two of Beach Fossils‘ eponymous debut LP, released tomorrow via Captured Tracks. Judging by its gorgeous simplicity and chilled-out broodiness, Dustin Payseur and band are a talent worth watching: this one won’t change your world but it will sure make it a little sweeter, a little gentler. In the end, I can’t improve on One Track Mind‘s summary: “it’s a grower of a tune, with each successive listen making it a little more beloved”. Too right.

I’m Not A Band – I’m Not A BandI’m not a fan of I’m Not A Band. At least, I wasn’t. In truth, I didn’t listen to them a whole lot, but the bits I did hear were melody-less noisefucks that made little impression on my charmometer. But what with first March 23rd, and now this new eponymous (word of the day) track, I’m stumbling towards the confessional though, suddenly enthused by this electronica. Amid the bounciest and synthiest keys imaginable, violin sounds and swaggering feedback, a pyschopathic man occasionally screams “I’m Not A Band!!!”, as if unable to contain himself any longer. And why should he? I take it all back I’m Not A Band – I had you all wrong.

Korallreven – The Truest FaithNo Pain in Pop makes an excellent point about Koralleven‘s seductress of a song: that for its summeryness and surf-sun-sea-sand sensibility, it’s been (probably) recorded by a geek in a (probably) windowless studio. In Stockholm, too – hardly a tropical paradise. Whatever, though – his loss, our gain. Get your fake Oakleys out, shave your legs (real men only), roll up those jeans into shorts, dig out your favourite clipper lighter and go float across a park looking soulful and enigmatic as this tropical storm washes over your ears, the musical equivalent of sex in a Jacuzzi on your own Caribbean island with no postcards to write.

Lana Del Rey – Diet Mtn. Dew
We fabulously fickle Brits must almost be at the stage where we, having spent months bemoaning the arctic winter, complain about the overbearing heatwave and pray for cooler climes. If you’re one of those already sick of all this warmth stuff, here’s a suitably smouldering, smoky, cloaky tune for ya: a purring ballad from young singer Lana Del Rey (aka Lizzy Grant), an American now based in the intolerable sunbelt that is London. Bet she regrets that now. An old demo, this is a song that reeks of film noir, dusty copies of Shakespeare plays, velvet blazers, jazz clubs, yellowed photographs and words lost in the wind. Brr… is it cold in here?